You must be this high to ride the rollercoaster.

Warning: Heavy content below. If you are looking for lighthearted banter, sarcastic Meghan comments or general snarki-ness on the state of the world, today's entry is probably not for you

I started this blog a long time ago with the intention of keeping it private, just someplace for me to get all of the crap out of my head and somewhere else -- in this case, the intertron.
It has over the years evolved from a private dumping ground to a running commentary on being single in Des Moines, the perils of online dating, the drama in my life and just my take on things.
I think it is fair to say that over the last week the drama factor has elevated just a few levels.

We will start with the big dog, as that makes the second half of this entry way more logical.
As I have referenced a few times in this space, my mom has cancer. We have been dealing with this in some form or another for roughly 7 years. She had her original diagnosis back in 2000. Breast Cancer.
So there was surgery, radiation and chemo. All the statistics pointed to a full recovery with a great chance for not having to deal with it again. Fast forward to 2004. What starts out as a pain in her side ultimately becomes a new diagnosis, Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer. Which means it has moved, to her bones, and it doesn't go away. Ever.
So we have spent the last 2 1/2 years working on keeping things status quo and keeping her healthy. That has meant a series of surgeries, ongoing chemo and lots of pain management. I tend to get rather flippant about the whole thing because it just becomes part of your total existence. "Yeah, my mom has cancer." It was like saying, "It's raining outside".
So Tuesday I get the phone call that I **think** that I have prepped myself for.
They met with her oncologist last week after a whole slew of tests of varying acronyms. MRI, PET, etc...

The message in a nutshell: chemo is not working, cancer is now everywhere in her skeletal system and has moved to her liver. We are out of options. Words like, time lines, hospice and quality of life have now entered into the dialog.
Just like that.
I mean, I saw that the call was from my sister, so I answered the phone with a "What up bitch?"
And then the freakin' hammer just dropped.
More like a 50 ton rock.
Like I said, we have been talking about this for so long, you think maybe you have a handle on it.
For the record, you don't. Its one thing to talk about something like this in the abstract. Its another all together to have it smack you upside your head.
And I know there are families that have gone through this, yet you still feel like you are the only one in the world this is happening to.
Of course, the phone has been ringing off the hook for the last few days. Please understand this is not a bad thing. Frankly, its the silver lining in all this. Its pretty amazing that the minute that things get rough, my family -- all of it -- has rallied like nobodies business. Its just that you have the same conversation like, 12 times. But I will deal with that.
I honestly don't think that I have really processed all of this yet. I haven't had "the breakdown" yet. I am sure it is coming. And I know it will be U-G-L-Y when it does. I think more than anything right now I am just pissed off.
The word I have been using up to this point is sucks. But that is no where near big enough for this. It sucks times a ga-zillion.
Which segues into the other rollercoaster moment this last week. And this one has been building for a little bit.
I had a roommate once -- this was years ago in Omaha -- who offered me a sage bit of wisdom when I was in the process of breaking up with my then boyfriend.

"You know Meghan, its hard to break-up with someone when you keep sleeping with
them"

And for the record, it was then.
And it is now.
- and yes, we are going for unprecedented honesty in this post. Why they hell not at this point?
So Joe and I have been, erm, "seeing" each other for the last few weeks. And in all fairness, I was willing to let things happen the way they were. But I was never totally comfortable with it.
I mean, I was either going to be in his life or not. But this periphery crap was not going to make it long term.
So I get the call about my mom on Tuesday. I know that Joe is out of town with friends on Tues & Wed. I send him a text that said basically, give me a call when you get back, I have had a horrible week. So, he finally surfaces on Thursday night. At about 1:30 AM -- somewhat intoxicated. For what ever reason, I go and pick him and his roommate up. He was like, I saw your text, what is up? I give him the its been a really shitty week and we can talk about it after we get his roommate home. I drop them off. Joe is like, lets go to your place. And I just let it all go. I tell him about my mom, I tell him I can't keep doing this -- whatever we are doing, and the options at this point are simple. Either we are going to make a go at this for real or it is all coming to a halt. There was a lot of other stuff in between, but that was the crux of the conversation. Keep in mind, he is still intoxicated and I am not really awake. So I say, listen. I have to work at the Cafe tomorrow night, lets get together after work and talk about this for real. He agreed. And we did go home to my house, but nothing happened. I dropped him off Friday morning before work, I was like, "we are still on for tonight, right". I get a yes. And off I go. I can't say that I felt good about the day, but at least I felt like we were going to get this worked out.
End of the night at the cafe, I shot him a text, "you done with work yet?". He replied -- this was a good sign -- that no, he wasn't done yet. I write back, and was like, just give me a shout when you are done and we can meet up.
Never heard from him.
At all.
All weekend.
After all that, after telling him what was going on and that I needed him to be strong for me, he bailed. Like a total chicken shit. He didn't even really bail, he freakin' ran for the hills and didn't even bother to say a word about it.
I don't have the energy to deal with all this right now. I mean, you can't hack it, say so and let me move on. But this... this just sucked. Again with the suck word being used, and not quite meeting the appropriate level of suckiness.
In summary kids, you must be at least 5'4" to ride the MeghanCoaster. And the ride these days is a bit of a motherfucker.

There it all is. I promise future posts will not be so intense as this one, but I will be using this to help communicate what is going on with my mom. Keeps everyone in the loop. But with my next post I promise to return to your regularly scheduled programming.
Same bat time, same bat channel.

Now Listening: Pink Moon by Nick Drake

Summer Pixie Fashion

I have to admit, I am a little upset that the weather pixie did not pick up on THIS little nuance in the weather. Somehow the idea of large chunks of ice crashing around her bikini clad person and the cat trying to avoid them, strikes me as pretty funny.
For additional clarification with the aforementioned pixie, I do NOT wear a bikini. Not when it is 82 degrees, not when it is 90 degrees.... or 95 degrees. You get the picture.
I think maybe she went to like, Pixie Weather & Fashion school and the instructors were like,
"Ok- if relative humidity hits 75% and the temperature shoots above 80 degrees, this years runway fashions are saying -- SWIMWEAR"
I think it might actually be the same courses that the occasional, complete idiot of a weatherperson goes to... which is a sad statement for the meteorological community. Not that I know any weather people. So offending them doesn't bother me too much.
That being said, I shall be rather interested to see what winter styling she is going to be sporting. Mukluks? Fur? Uggs? Thermal wear? Who knows what we will see....
You shall just have to keep checking in.

Now Listening: White Ladder by David Gray

They're Baaaaaack...

And it is awesome.
I use that word a lot, I need to work on expanding my vocabulary just a little bit.
Linguistics aside, Nate and Martine and NOAH made it home safely last night.
There was some family, lots of hugs, a few tears and tons of balloons welcoming them home at the airport.
After a few round of pass-the-baby we managed to get luggage (it all arrived on time) and get in the car.
There was some concern as to how little man would handle the car seat as he has been either held or in the Baby Bjorn for all of his traveling up to now. He was totally chill the whole ride home.
So, we got them settled, and fed.
Noah was a little cranky - who can blame him? After a 36 hour trans-pacific flight and being 12 hours off your schedule, I would be cranky as hell too. Was slightly overwhelmed with all the new smells, sounds and multiple rooms -- up to this point he has been in either one room at the orphanage or at the hotel. Nate and Martine were awesome to watch. Of course, hearing them refer to themselves as Mom & Dad will take some getting used to.

All in all, thrilled to have them home and get started on this new chapter.

Housesitting Basics

1. Feed cats daily
2. Collect mail every day
3. Keep house in one piece

It would seem that I have all but one of those in hand. Specifically, #3. Well, it is not so dramatic as that, but a small glitch nonetheless.
Last night I was at the house, Amy was dropping off some groceries she had gotten for Nate & Martine's return back home. I normally use the keypad and just go in through the garage. Easier. Don't have to worry about keys, etc. So, we get the groceries put away, I feed the cats, grab the mail and we are on our way out the door. So I go to close the garage door, it starts closing, gets all the way down and then goes back up.
Both Amy & I look at each other -- odd, we think. So I hit the code again and the door starts closing and the same thing happens, it gets all the way down and then goes back up. I check the sensors... all clear. And then I notice this cable on the left side of the door that clearly I shouldn't be noticing. It is the cable that actually brings the door up and down. It is frayed and off the track. Now, I am in work clothes. So I tell Amy, I will take care of it. I can leave the door open for 10 minutes while I run home, change clothes. So that is what I do. I head back over, and try to pull the cable back to the inside of the door. That doesn't work. I get on top of the garbage can and try to get the cable back on the track. That doesn't work as it is a little tangled and there is not enough tension to hold it in place.
At this point, the garage door has gone up and down roughly 80 times. I am convinced that too much more of this will fry the little motor in the actual opener. And clearly, I can't leave the house wide open.
I hit "girl mode".
As in, I am a girl, clearly I can't do anything about this.
I start making phone calls, texting. I managed to get hold of my friend Lisa. I was like, um, is Tim around? He gets on the phone, I explain the situation to him. I get the "is there a release cord anywhere?". I look. Dangling over the Bug is a red cord that is attached to the arm that is attached to the opener. I pull it. Low and behold, the door is now free of the opener and will go down manually.
So at this point, I am elated, as I have managed to get the door shut and I will not be a total failure at house sitting.
I then realize that I have, however, created a mess for Nate & Martine to figure out when they get home. So, if either of you read this before I see you tomorrow -- sorry about that.
Our lesson here? I am a kick-ass house sitter for about 2 weeks. You get into week 3 and I can't be held accountable for what may or may not happen. In all fairness however, I have steps 1 & 2 in great shape.
And to top it off, I get a call from Nate's sister this morning. Her boys are keeping the yard in check. She calls and is like, "Meghan, this is Tara, Nate's sister. I noticed that the garage door wasn't working and wanted to see if you knew about it." I then told her the story above and I will be meeting them back at the house later this evening so they can get in. So I am sure she thinks I am a great friend.
All in all, a great way to end things. Here we are less than 24 hours before they get home and I managed to goof it up.
Well, I know they had been talking about a new garage door. Perhaps I just accelerated that little house project.
Clearly the next time any of you who read this are out of town and need someone to keep an eye on things, I might not be your first choice. And I think I am ok with that.
Alrighty then. Back to it. A little lunch time blogging and the work is piling up.
Out.

Now Listening: Sam's Town by The Killers